The Lines That Divide Us
by DreamsInBlackAndWhite
Summary: There was no fear of me. What I had done to other people, it didn't matter. After all, she was the princess. John-Claire fic. Slightly OOC. T for language, references to drugs etc. One-Shot


_So this is my first ever Breakfast Club fic. Please do review because it is just nice to be nice. Also, tell me if you think any of the characters are OOC._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Breakfast Club or any of the characters in the fic._

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School was a haven for me. I was in control there. People knew what to think as soon as they saw me. They picked up on the signs. If your heart does die when you get older, so does your perspective. Your gut instinct about people and cliques and these lines that divide us.

It took me a very long time to realise why I did it. Even now I'm not quite sure. Now. Then. They're just labels. But back then. School was my domain. My kingdom. I ruled the roost. Vernon knew it, just as sure as I did. I could do whatever I wanted because I didn't care. Detention? So what.

But she was different. After that day, I could see it. How she'd wrap her arms around herself when she stood, talking to her friends. Holding herself together. And she wouldn't meet my gaze. Not like the others who avoided me. Who thought I was gonna jump them. There was no fear of me. What I had done to other people, it didn't matter. After all, she was the princess.

She couldn't ignore me though. Not even if she tried. She'd tense up when I walked into second period Biology, one of the two classes we shared. And I couldn't ignore her. I couldn't escape her. When I kissed the other girls, I compared them to her. They weren't as soft and breakable. I couldn't hurt them like I could hurt her. Like I had hurt her. But I couldn't help it.

I served every single detention, wondering if she'd end up back there ever again. If I could ever recapture what had been in the library the day. But no. Nothing came like that. There were little freshmen who laughed when I sassed Vernon. I think now they looked up to me as someone who lived outside the rules because I could. Because I wanted to. But that was never the case.

I'd seen the posters. People selling the tickets. Decorations commitees. Made fun of prom with my friends. But really prom was the essence of who she was. At least, it was the essence of the face she wore for everyone. She'd just bury her head and wait for prom.

I saw her wait for classes with him. Him coming to her locker to peck her good morning. The dweeb in the Letterman jacket with chinos and new dockers and blond hair that he parted to the side like a pussy. We made fun of him too. Whenever he touched her though, kissed her, it was like she wanted to flinch away from the contact. I don't think he noticed, he was so unobservant.

But I did. When I'd kissed her, we'd fitted together, somehow. It was confusing and deep and that one kiss had held more meaning than any of the faceless girls before her, the ones who two weeks later I couldn't even name.

He watched her closely, like a guard. He was always pulling her away from other people, gripping her arm tighter than he should have. It pissed me off, to see him clutch at her. I wanted to smash his face in and ride of into the sunset. Maybe just once be the hero. Just once get the princess. Be the knight in shining armour, for all the guys who's had there heart wrapped around some fucking princess's finger.

I'm getting coarse now and I know it. It sounds more like me. The one who saw her first. Who was walking the streets that night, heading to a party at some kid's house. A place where he planned to get drunk and wasted and listen to Heavy Metal while hooking up in a downstairs closet.

He was passing the school car park when he spat on the ground and looked up for the first time. That was when he heard someone crying.

Intrigued, he decided he would investigate, if only to kill time and make a fashionably late entrance to the party. Actually, most of his friends would be too wasted to realise he was late. He listened closely now, listening for the quiet sobs over the sound of the jazzy song playing inside the gym, thumping out at full volume.

He hurried now, sensing that urgency was needed. The wind that whipped up seemed to will him on. He rounded the corner of the small equipment hut and sprinted now, past the blocky front of the school and jumped the low bike locks and now he was in the car park and things were distorted. He could hear the crying louder now, bordering on yelling. From a red Camero '75 that was rocking away.

The other richies just stood talking, not twenty yards away, awkwardly ignoring what was going on. They were all guys. He took note of at least four of their names and resolved to have a discussion with them before the end of the semester. Turning his back on them he approached the car silently, ignoring the shouts of warning. He gripped the door and flung it open and saw those huge eyes stare up at him, begging him to help.

He pulled him off her effortlessly. He really was a dweeb. It only took two hits. He hit him and he hit the floor. He'd thank Andrew for that line later. She was still crying, trying to hold herself together. He knew then exactly what he'd just done and why. It was a rare moment of clarity.

"Claire?" I asked, my voice low and husky. It was a question. Was she Claire or was she just the princess? The damsel in distress? It registered with me on some level that I was actually her knight in shining armour this time.

She just sobbed and I leaned down and gathered her up in my arms and held her. I let her cry. Then I carried her away. I wished I had a car to take her away in. Or a noble steed. She didn't seem to mind the movement of my body. She curled into me and buried her head on my chest and her whole body shook with tears.

And then we had to face Monday. But it wasn't like last time. She waited for me by the football field, her eyes guarded and fierce. She was scared of rejection, I could tell straight away. She took my hand almost possessively and I kissed her on the cheek. I let her leave me at the door and we met again in gym. She was the last girl to finish changing so I slipped into the changing room and smiled at her.

"John, you'll get detention if Coach Clabb finds out you were in here" she said, smiling back at me and coming over, holding my hand again.

I shrugged and she chuckled, standing up on tip toes to kiss my cheek. But something isn't right. I sit down, tugging her gently after me and she rests her head on my shoulder. Things are okay for now, away from her friends. She can see me through the lines.

"Dwayne's gonna be here John. Everyone knows what happened at prom. I don't know if I can go out" she says, her voice trembling. I squeeze her fingers and bite back snappy remarks about fucking princesses and how she cared about what they thought. I didn't push her away this time, like I had tried to do in the library.

I don't say anything, really. I gesture for her to come with me to gym. Her eyes are guarded again and I know she's seen me differently than her friends for a long time. She doesn't fell their unease when I walk by. She doesn't realise the power I hold over the mass of teenagers waiting for us in the gym. The wise ass, the bully, whatever you want to label me.

I wanted the same haven for her that I had in managed to find in school.

"Come with me Claire", I said, swallowing my pride, "I won't let them bother you".

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Fin


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